Naked Robber
by SpamAnderson
Summary: Steve Dave and Walt, up close and WAY too personal. But their adventures are strange enough for their own TV show...good thing that will never happen though.
1. Default Chapter

Naked Robber  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Steve Dave, Walt, Mountain Dew, nor Kevin Smith... unfortunately...  
  
Steve Dave stretched with a little noise as the morning sunlight shone, gliding gently over the soft, pale curves of Walt's ass.   
  
"Ah!" Walt stirred as Steve Dave jumped up and away from him in a scream. "Walt! Get your pants back on!"  
  
"What?" Walt questioned sleepily as he yawned innocently.  
  
"Walt! My mom is going to have a cow if she sees you in here... nude..." Steve Dave shuddered slightly at the thoughts of the previous night. He mumbled to himself softly, "That's the last time I chug 37 cans of Mountain Dew in one night during a Twilight Zone marathon."  
  
"Steve Dave, what are you talking about? What's wrong with two men in their mid-twenties sleeping naked with each other?" Walt tilted his head a bit as he scratched his ass. The sunlight shone nearly through the lightly matted hairs on his bare legs, giving a golden brown glow to each strand. Steve Dave was silent in thought and confusion for a while. Then he opened his mouth... was said nothing for a few minutes.   
  
"Um, Walt... I guess there's nothing wrong with that... but mothers don't like to see naked men... in each other's rooms..."  
  
"Okay, Steve Dave. You're so smart. You're a genius."  
  
"Damn right, Walt, my man." Steve Dave took his proud of himself stance and patted Walt on the back lightly.   
  
"... Now put on some clothes."   
  
"But why!?"  
  
"Put on some clothes"  
  
"I don't want to!"  
  
"Put on clothes"  
  
"But it's too hot in your room!"  
  
"Get clothing on your body!"  
  
"But I-"  
  
"Clothes!"  
  
"But- "  
  
"Cover yours!"  
  
"I-"  
  
"Get dressed, dammit!"  
  
"Why!"  
  
Steve Dave sighed and rolled his eyes. Then a brilliant idea struck him.  
  
"Oh! Walt. I'm gonna go to Dave's Comic's. As soon as you put on clothes, you can come with me." Before he finished what he was saying, Walt was standing right next to him with a robe flung loosely around his body.  
  
"A robe is clothing, right?"  
  
"Not really."  
  
They both stood there for a moment.  
  
"So... I guess you don't want to come with me, do you, Walt?"  
  
"No! No! I wanna!" He pouted and bounced up and down like a child. The robe fell down and he continued to bounce... in all sense of the word. Steve Dave's eyes followed the bouncing movements of Walt's... anatomy.  
  
"Ah! Stop it! Walt!" Walt stopped suddenly, now on his knees, looking up at Steve Dave with tiny, puppy dog eyes. He batted his eyelashes childishly. "Puhleeezzzzz, take me with you, Steve Dave!"  
  
"Puhleeezzzzz, put on clothes!!!"  
  
"Okay!!! But I'm wearing my Spider man underroos on the outside!"  
  
"Um... okay."  
  
So after a long fight... SPIDEY was again on top... of Walt's pants... 


	2. Under Roo!

Naked Robber

"Under Roo!"

Steve Dave and Walt walked into the comic book store. Walt with an expression of confidence and triumph . . . and Steve Dave with a horrified expression of embarrassment and shame. "Why do I have to be the yokel with a best friend wearing his underwear on the outside?" He thought to himself.

"Hello, Jay!" Walt beamed happily as he walked into the store.

"Walt, don't call me Jay. It's Jason."

"Okay, Jay!"

"Steve Dave, why don't you teach this one better?"

"It's very difficult. His head is harder than his cock when he's watching Xena."

"Yeah, while you ram him in the ass!" Jason laughed as Steve Dave walked away while flicking him off.

"Shut up, Jason. You're just jealous cuz you know you wanna tap that ass."

"Yeah! Tell him, Steve Dave!" Walt exclaimed in his usual faithful puppy dog fashion from over the Xena comic book with his hand firmly placed around his penis.

"That image is super creepy. Walt! Don't get sperm on the comics, you sick freak! You spray 'em, you buy 'em!"

"Walt. Get off that butch sword fighting crap. We have a mission."

"We do? I mean, yeah! Okay, whatever you say, Steve Dave." Walt followed Steve Dave as he strolled past all the tantalizing covers of fresh and older comics. Walt wanted to salivate just looking at them. The curiosity bubbling inside of him finally burst in an explosion of fervid excitement as Walt yipped, "What's our mission!"

"Getting me a date for the high school reunion."

"What?" Disappointment and confusion was obvious in his voice. "Why, Steve Dave? You got me."

"No, Walt, I mean a real date. A woman. I need to look like I have a life. I was voted most likely to drop off the face of the earth only having comics as proof of my existence."

"What's wrong with that? Besides the lengthy title?"

"Walt! It's not good to be a loser!"

"I don't think you're a loser, Steve Dave. You're the coolest guy I've ever known." Walt's eyes sparkled as his innocent sincerity oozed out of his cheerful disposition.

"See, that's why I keep you around. Although that is kinda sad on your account. But anyway, I just really don't want to be made fun of and given swirleys like in high school."

"Oh, that's not going to happen. We're plenty old enough to be grown past all of that."

"I hope you're right."

"And you know, if anything goes wrong, we can take a charkam to their heads."

"You live in your own world, Walt. Really, you do."

"Hey, look! Issue 37 of Super Mutant Sluts!"

"Gimme that!" Steve Dave hoarded the comic hurriedly and stroked the comic lovingly as he forgot all about his useless attempt to find real woman.

Comics make way for more comics and the day of a mission turns dark as Steve Dave and Walt are still in the comic book store. It seems they got nothing done but discuss comics until they were accordingly thrown out. The comic book store closed, the next possible place to go was the All- Night Arcade.

Morning came and Steve Dave was forced to crack his neck as he noticed just where he was. Steve Dave stretched and moaned. He looked around to find a lone kid poking him in the leg with a stick. "You're a weird dude, mister."

"Go away." He threw something he found lying on the floor next to him at the boy. Observing the space around him he noticed a naked Walt curled into a ball, grasping his knees and his balls tightly. "What am I going to do with you, Walt?" He shook him awake. Lifting his arms to examine them, Steve Dave finally noticed the 3700 tickets decorating his body. "What? Walt, do you remember what happened last night?"

Walt looked around after rubbing his eyes tiredly. He pointed to a lonely, dusty game in a corner behind him. "Politician Samurai?" Steve Dave read. "Who the hell would waste their time on this game?"

Walt yawned and pointed to him with little interest.

The guy who worked at the arcade walked up just then to throw Walt some pants.

"Boy, if you don't get dressed, _I'll_ rape you!"

"Woah, do I _want_ to understand that one?" Walt shivered as a tight feeling crept up his asshole.

Walt turned to look at Steve Dave with a frightened expression. And maybe an accusative eye. Steve Dave also looked scared.

"Dude, you got beaten up by some gay Republican gamers for high scoring the Politician Samurai game that hardly no one plays. And then they gang banged your friend," the guy who worked there explained to Steve Dave as if it was a casual occurrence.

"And then they tossed some children's underwear on his head."

"Oh, no, that's really his underwear."

"Woah, creepy. Get out before I call the cops."

"Already gone," Steve Dave stated as they started to leave. "Come on, Walt."

"Wait," Walt said as he approached the employee. "Did they even leave their numbers?"

"Boy, put on your damn kiddie underwear!" He threw the under roos in Walt's face and gave him a stern push out.

As Steve Dave drove home he reflected back on the day and how they could have ended up where they did. Walt slipped on his underwear and pants and the shirt over his head while Steve Dave muttered to himself. "Hey!" He exclaimed in realization. "The reunion!"

"Yeah, Steve Dave? What about it?"

"It's today!"

"Oh . . . and?"

"And that's bad, Walt!"

"Oh . . . why?"

"Because I smell like Politician, I was beaten up by gay Republicans and you got raped, literally. I think that's the first time someone said at an arcade 'you got raped' and they truly meant it."

"I don't really mind."

"And that's what scares me, Walt. But anyway, I need to wash the stench of politician and gang rape off of me . . . well, the gang rape off you."

"Walt, go home," Steve Dave sighed as he pulled into his driveway.

"No, Steve Dave, we have a mission," his childish voice whimpered.

"Walt, get out of my car."

"But I don't wanna! My ass is sore."

"I can't imagine why." His sarcasm barely hid his heavily prevalent stress.

"Steve Dave!"

"Get walking, Walt!"

Walt grabbed Steve Dave's shoulders and shook him slightly with tears in his eyes. "Steve Dave, don't make me go home . . . I don't want to go . . . I just want to stay here . . . with you." Steve Dave, with a surprised look, suddenly sighed and his expression softened. He stroked his head gently and spoke with the caring of a brother, "Okay, Walt. But you're going to have to promise to be well-behaved."

"I will! I will!"

"Okay," Steve Dave sighed through his exhaustion.

Steve Dave walked into his house, dropped his keys on the kitchen table and grabbed a Coke from the refrigerator. He leaned against a wall and flipped through the yellow pages as he sipped his drink. Suddenly he squealed out in delight, spitting out the soda in his mouth.

"Walt!"

"What is it, Steve Dave?"

"I've got a great idea!"

"For what?"

"For the class reunion, dammit!"

"Oh, okay . . . what?"

"Walt," he sighed. "I'll hire someone to pretend to be my hot model girlfriend."

"You mean like a prostitute?"

"Well . . . yeah, I guess."

"Doesn't that cost money?"

"Yeah . . . but I have . . . some."

"No, you don't. You spent all of it on all 78 episodes of the original Star Trek."

"Well . . . maybe I can find some money somewhere."

"Where? My ass?"

"Don't give me any ideas . . . damn, that's gross. Walt, you're a man-slut." Steve Dave stepped into the living room while shaking the creepy images out of his head. He pulled up the cushions from the couch and searched through all the chairs and underneath them, too. Eventually he found 2 dollars and fifteen cents. "Would that be enough?"

"Did you say hot model? Or trailer trash model?"

"Uh . . ." And Steve Dave continued to search . . . but he stopped abruptly to turn to Walt and ask him curiously, "Hey, Walt, how do you know so much about prostitutes?"

"My step dad tells me about them all the time."

"Oh . . . yet again, creepy." And he went on with his search after 12 minutes of his hunt he found an extra 37 cents.

"This is not working," Walt said with disappointment obvious in his voice.

"I know that, Walt."

"Well, what are we going to do, Steve Dave?"

"I don't know." Steve Dave stood there for a moment, supporting the weight of his chin on his palm. Soon he lifted his head up and shouted in blind excitement.

"I can pimp you out for cash!"

"But Steve Dave, why pimp me out when you can just go with me to the reunion?"

"I already explained to you, I want to go with a GIRL! Not a gay WHORE like _you_!"

Shocked, Walk whimpered softly, his lower lip protruding outward and his eyes watering.

"Oh!" Suddenly, Steve Dave felt remorse. "I'm sorry, Walt. That's not what I meant . . . I'm sorry . . ."

Walt didn't answer, he just abruptly turned around and dashed out the front door.

"Oh! Walt! I'm sorry! Come back! Walt!" He stood in the doorway, hanging on the frame as he stared out, not really seeing. A cold wind stroked his chin and he hurriedly closed the door. He looked around quickly then sank into a chair. He felt empty. Sighing, he closed his eyes and tried not to think.


	3. What's up with Walt?

"What's up with Walt?"

Steve Dave ran his fingers through his messy and unkempt hair as he turned his head to the left, sighing. He pursed his lips to one side then the other and twisted his face into the classic expressions and confused contemplation.

_Walt . . . why exactly is he so touchy? I called him about nine times and his Mom said he never came home and she was really worried about that. I assured her I was just kidding and that he was at my house and we were just playing some stupid joke. She said it was believable. I must be really good at lying. Or she thinks I'm an idiot. Would I really call someone over and over again with such a childish prank to run around afterwards, giggling like an idiot? _He shrugged to himself. _Why didn't he go home? And why did he not inform me of something? It wasn't all that mean. I have said worse things. Have I gone too far? Maybe he was tired of the abuse . . . nah, that's not possible. He doesn't know any better. Where is he? _

He had spent about an hour sitting motionless before he started calling to check for Walt. He

spent an hour of so just calling periodically and thinking about Walt. It had not occurred to him until much later to actually think about searching for him. He gathered some stuff into a messenger bag of his and headed out the door to look for Walt. To start, he headed for the comic book shop. When he didn't find Walt cuddled up in a dusty corner clutching a "Wonder Woman" in his hands, he was astounded. So he sat down and read a few "Tank Girl"s. Eventually, he remembered what he was supposed to do. And the search was on again!

Walt lay on the grassy lawn of his cousin's house. Although, his cousin was home and when he came outside he yelled at him, "Hey, Walt, what are you doing in my front yard?"

"Uh, Nothing, Jim."

"Well, jeez, just come inside."

"All right."

"So, what are you doing here? Do you want to talk about it?"

"Well . . . actually, I don't remember."

"Walt, you're an idiot."

"Ah, that's not nice."

"And I'm not just saying this because I'm your cousin. You really are an idiot. You're a complete and utter moron. Seriously, it's as if you have no brain whatsoever in that fat head of yours. Do you even think for yourself? Where is that guy you're always with? Isn't he like your gay lover of something?"

"Oh, now I remember! Ooo, I'm upset."

"I could tell, dumb ass. So, why?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"What? Why not?"

"I just don't."

"Come on, you can tell me. I mean, I know I don't even like you or anything and I'm constantly cruel to you and I'm your cousin, but you can tell me."

"Oh, okay. Steve Dave called me a whore."

"What? Is that all? Walt, you _are_ a whore."

"Hey!" Walt starts sniffling.

"Why does that bother you so much? How do you know he wasn't joking?"

"He sounded mad when he said it."

"Then maybe he said it out of anger."

"Well . . ."

"What? It's not like you're a dirty slut, raped at an early age, or anything."

Walt didn't say a word in response.

"Is it?"

Still, he didn't answer.

"Hey, Walt," his cousin began to inquire with a tiny iota of concern in his voice.

"Uh, yeah, I don't want to talk about it."

"Um, okay. But are you sure you don't ant to talk to your friend about it?"

"Why?" He pouted, folding his arms over each other.

"Because he's your best friend, right?"

"Yeah. So?"

"Or maybe more than that . . . "

"Hey! Shut up! I am not bay with Steve Dave."

"Fine, Fine."

"Yeah." Still pouting.

"He doesn't like you that way?"

"NO! We're just not gay!"

"Okay. Because straight guys don't really have sleep-overs at your age."

"So! You're just jealous!"

"And they don't play naked robber."

"We're . . . best friends. He's more like an annoyed older brother than a friend."

"So, why agin don't you want to talk to him about this?"

"I . . . don't know. Do you think I should?"

"Would it keep you off my lawn?"

"Probably."

"Then, yes."

"Okay! I'll do it!"

"Great. That only took forever."

Walt bounded out of the room and down to Steve Dave's house.

As he bounced there, he knocked over someone.

"Eh!"

"I'm sorry," Walt screamed in apology.

"Walt?"

"Oh, do I know you?"

Steve Dave stood up and shook himself off.

"I've been looking everywhere for you!"

"Like where?"

"Exactly."

"What?"

"Listen, Walt, I came to find you because I wanted to tell you that I don't think you're a man slut. And I don't hate you. And I didn't mean to be an ass."

"Thanks, Steve Dave. You're so great."

"What? I called you a whore, you cried and ran away and now all of a sudden I'm great?"

"Steve Dave, you're like a brother to me. And I wanted to thank you for that."

"Okay . . . So, uh, I still don't have any plans for the reunion. Would you . . . like to come with me?"

"I'd love to!"

"Really? And so, you forgive me?"

"Yep!"

"Great! So, do you want to get ready, or are you fine as is?"

"I just have to go change real quick. I have grass stains all over my jeans."

"Okay."

Sitting on the couch, Steve Dave waited for Walt, just twiddling his thumbs. Twenty minutes had passed when Steve Dave finally got up and screamed at the stairway.

"What the hell is taking you so long, Walt?"

"I'll be down in a minute."

"Fine! Hurry up!"

More time spent on the couch, twiddling his thumbs. Another ten minutes had slipped away and Steve Dave was getting really frustrated.

"Walt! What the fu-" Steve Dave was interrupted by a form on the top of the steps.

"U-u-u-uh"

The form came closer, as it did Steve Dave could determine a beautiful young woman with a short skirt and an interesting form-fitting top. There was a corset on the outside, covering her stomach. The corset was made out of what seemed to be a red silk material. She had long, dangling earrings, a jeweled choker and her hair drawn up into a high bun.

". . . hi? Are you a friend of Walt's sister?"

She didn't speak. Instead she shook her head a smiled a little as she came closer to him. Her lips were thick and juicy, colored red just like the corset. Elegantly, she held herself as she glided down the stairs. She wasn't skinny, on the contrary, she was quite thick but she was very pretty.

"Hey, could you tell Walt to hurry up or we're going to be late?"

"I'm ready!"

Steve Dave's eyes nearly popped out of his head. It was Walt's voice coming out of that lovely woman. _HOLY CRAP! That's not a woman! It' Walt! And she's not lovely or beautiful! She's Walt! Ah! Walt! Ah! NO! Walt! Ah, no! Help me! My eyes!_

"What's the matter, Steve Dave?"

"Ah! That's not what I meant! I meant you could come with me as you, you dork. I didn't want you to dress up like a woman!"

"Well, you wanted a date."

"Not a guy!"

"But come on, I make a pretty good girl."

"I will not admit that! Ever!"

"So, you don't want to go with me?"

"Not like a woman!"

"But won't everyone be impressed that you got a girlfriend?"

"Or a boyfriend!"

"Come on, Steve Dave!"

"NO!"

"Please! I want to help out! And I want to go!"

"How did you get like that so quickly? Did you already have that outfit ready?"

"Maybe."

"Eww, Walt! There are so many things I don't know about you. And that I don't want to know."

"Come on, you're running out of time and you know you want to impress our peers."

"And what if they ask where you are?"

"Like they care."

"Well, you have a point." When he said this, Walt pushed his lower lip out.

"They don't really care if I'm there or not either, Walt."

"Yeah." Walt stared down at his long fingernails.

"Walt, is there a special reason why you were so ready to dress up like a girl even though I didn't ask you to."

"No, I just want to make you happy, Steve Dave. You're my hero."

"Yeah, I am a hero, aren't I?" Steve Dave smirks proudly to himself.

"You're mine." Walt beams happily at his hero.

"Fine! We'll go together. You'll pretend to be my girlfriend. But you have to practice a more feminine voice."

"No problem," Walt chirped in his most lovely, delicate yet deep mature woman voice.

"Damn, you scare me sometimes, Walt."

"Sorry," he said again in his own voice.

"Never mind. Let's just go."

"No, wait, Steve Dave, we can't go yet."

"Why not?"

"Look at you. You look like a mess. I will not be seen at this reunion with such a wreck of a man as my date!"

"Uh . . ."

"Let's dress you up, too!"

"Holy sh-" Before he could finish, Walt dragged him kicking and screaming up to his room to get ready for the reunion.


End file.
